“You can’t make tomorrow? Too bad,” Arielle said. Then, to Gregory, “Do you want to drive, or should I?”
“I can drive,” he said.
“Okay. Pick me up at eight.”
And that was that. Darby had met her match.
She frowned as another neighbor mom summoned Arielle over for a chat. “The little snot,” Darby muttered.
Remind you of anyone you know?came the thought.
She pushed it away. “You didn’t have to say yes, you know,” she said to Gregory.
“Arielle’s a force to be reckoned with,” he replied. “Anyway, why not? She wants to be with me.”
His tone of voice was a challenge, and the implication was plain. It had been a long time since Darby had wanted to be with him. Stupid her.
“Gregory,” she began, “I need to—”
Once more she was cut off by the arrival of yet another pest. This time it was Pete Davies, another neighbor she’d palled around with... before she became too cool. She’d heard he’d gone into commercial real estate and was doing well. He’d invested in all the right stocks. He’d bought a Harley and become the quintessential cool dude—well-off and good-looking enough to be on the cover of a romance novel.
And to think she used to tease him about the collection of zits he once sported. Petey Pus. Lovely nickname. Yep, she’d been something. Standing there between two sweet guys who had turned into spectacular men, she made up a nickname for herself: Dopey Darby.
Pete looked at her with mild dislike. “Look who came back to town.”
“Lucky you,” she said in a vain attempt to mock her former superior self.
“Yeah, right,” he sneered, then turned to Gregory. “Hey, I hear you guys are hitting the slopes tomorrow. Got room for me?”
“Sure,” said Gregory.
Cole joined them, his plate piled high with chips. “I hear you and Arielle are going snowboarding tomorrow. Want a wingman?”
“Sure,” Gregory said.
Great. Now everyone was going snowboarding without her. She was never that good, either on a snowboard or skis, but she still liked spending time on the slopes. So this was what it felt like to be on the outside looking in. Darby couldn’t help feeling a little sorry for herself.
She left them talking and made for the refreshment table.Bring on the cookies.
She had plans anyway. She was having coffee with Ainsley and Laurel. Her posse. Her girls. Her gang.
Fa-la-yuck.
“It’s snowing again,” one of the moms announced, and two little boys yelled, “Snowball fight!”
“Oh, yeah,” said Cole. “Come on, Darb. Let’s see how tough you are. Rika! Come on!” he called to their sister, who was on the other side of the room drinking punch, talking to Mom’s friend, Mrs.Jones, and doing an excellent job of hiding her boredom. “Get your coat.”
Darby had always been able to wield her tongue like a sword, but never won when it came to snowball wars. “Oh, no,” she said.
“Guess you’re just too cool for that,” Gregory taunted.
She sighed and fetched her coat.
Once outside, running around with both the people she’d grown up with and the young ones coming up, she remembered how much fun it had been to be a kid, chasing one another around with abandon, slipping and sliding, falling down, getting snow shoved down the back of her coat. Hitting Erika on the butt with a snowball. Oh, yeah. The years fell away.
“Hey, Darb,” called her brother.
She looked back over her shoulder and received a hardpack snowball in the face. It caught her on the nose and made her see stars. She let out a shriek.
